Human Obstacle
by Person With Many Aliases
Summary: Akemi Homura takes an internship, and learns to cut out the thing in her chest she calls a heart.


"Puella Magi Madoka Magica" property of studio SHAFT.

Original Characters property of authors "Person With Many Aliases, and Gaia_Cleaver

* * *

Akemi Homura did not remember, but it was sometime in the early hundreds of her attempts that she realized she was not strong enough to go all the way.

Maybe it was the amount of magic she used. Maybe she lacked something.

But when the time came, and she was bitterly torn as to how to gain the strength, the capacity to _fight_, she met them.

* * *

"I have an associate who specializes in the destruction of Witches and Familiars. Perhaps it would be beneficial for you to trust me to let the two of you meet."

Over the river and through the woods, Homura followed the English gentleman, with his gold hair and green eyes protected by rectangular glasses, with his measured strides and his measured tweed vest.

Homura remained wary of Aloysius Lime, who appeared out of nowhere with offers too good to be true. It was a familiar story, no matter whose side it was, or what they looked like. But he knew she knew, and left tantalizing baits that left her unable to do much than jam the hook into her mouth and let her be reeled in, out of desperation. The most she could do was move her mouth around while she was dragged in.

"Why should I trust you?" Homura thus moved her mouth while she followed the man into park. She said it in a cool tone enough that managed to disguise her worry. It was one of the few things she learned after so many futile gestures in the past.

"You don't have to. But I believe you can trust my ambivalence. The only real profit I can gain from this is personal amusement. I've been observing your movements for quite some time, and they have become somewhat stale. It would be more interesting once you learn how to "do" things. Besides that, you have money, and my associate takes it. That's straight forward enough."

Observing her movements. Homura wondered if she should be afraid for what that meant. He made it sound like he was there every time she returned and tried again and again.

They stopped in the middle of the park, near a fountain, and Homura noticed here was the barrier between the here, and a Witch's Labyrinth.

Lime hummed to himself, curious, and checked his watch.

"Eight Fifteen. Colt's unusually slow. Perhaps the Witch is tougher than expected. Homura, let us enter. Perhaps it is better for you to see him in action. It would save me the trouble of convincing you."

These were the days Homura could still be surprised. Words like _enter_, and _him_ in relation the battles of Witches and Magical Girls momentarily left her unable to understand what Lime intended to do, before she watched him draw a line with his finger and split the air, opening a door into a world of candelabras and shadow puppets.

"Wait. These places are dangerous." She called out, chasing after the Englishman as he stepped into the Labyrinth.

"Then transform. Or you may wait out here." Lime retorted without raising his voice. Homura did wreath herself in her magic and equipment, and decided that Lime's health was on his own head. Fools would be fools.

Through the halls of writhing shadow shapes, the two walked side by side until they heard a hall rumble. They found themselves box seats overlooking a pair of giant hands trying to kill a grown man.

"Fucker! Killing you isn't even fun!" He swore, as he was dragged around the theater by a string that attached one of his ankles to the Witch's finger. The tails of his great black coat swept a trail behind his back, while his big black hat fluttered about on his head.

"Colt's a man?" Homura confirmed out of her own surprise.

"I understand your reservations about someone with no magical talent being an expert with anti-Witch tactics. But hopefully he'll prove why he's stayed alive."

It was an enlightening experience. Colt had some sort of gun that gave a soft "pop", before something smacked the Witch's overgrown hands at the joints connecting the fingers to the palm. There was a thudding noise as flame and smoke poured forth, and Colt rolled out of the way as torn fingers fell from the sky. A second shot on his back made something explode in the darkness between the two hands.

And that was that.

Lime motioned for Homura to follow him as the world unwound like yarn and returned to being the park. They approached the bleeding man in the coat, with his gun, as he turned around.

"Homura Akemi. This is Jeremy Colt. He kills things. Jeremy Colt, this is Homura-"

Colt took one look at her, and before she could even recognize the look in those dead brown eyes, a whirl of motion had another gun in his hand and a bullet breaking out of the back of her skull.

* * *

When she woke up, she grudgingly accepted that Lime might have been correct about his assessment of a non-magic using, non-Soul Gem secured, very mortal, very squishy, large male.

"Ah damn it, and you wake up and embarrass me. I still can't learn that Magical Girls don't die from things like head trauma. Heh, like a fucking Necromorph. Perhaps I'll find myself a Plasma Cutter and chop you up, and stomp on your remains."

She turned her head on the sofa she was lying on, and found the Jeremy Colt sneering at her from under his hat and across a coffee table, as he slumped back in his own chair, coat pooling onto the ground.

"Necromorph?" She didn't recognize the term.

"Personal Joke."

She found she was back to wearing her normal clothing. It was the dress she normally had before she would (re)enroll into Madoka's school.

"Where are we?" She asked, sitting up. It seemed like a well worn, broken in living room, with rain soaked windows showing a grand view of the city outside. Scattered over the coffee table were parts of guns and bullets.

"My fortress apartment block of evil." He stood up to walk over to a coffee percolator in the kitchenette, "I own the whole place. Ever since the world population started dropping off with world wide chaos, thanks to _that_ Witch… owning things is significantly easier."

Homura already knew all that. She was familiar with the end of the world.

"Lime told me aaalll about your cute idea about asking for training on how to kill things from me." Colt chuckled, holding a cup of coffee between his fingers, watching himself swirl the liquid beside his head.

"I can pay."

"Normally I don't teach Magical Girls. I'm more about killing them when I remember where to shoot. But Lime told me you had a lot of money saved up. It'd be a bit hypocritical of me to kill out of personal conviction. Still, what are you hoping to get out of this educational experience?" The last part came out of his mouth, drowning in sarcasm.

"I need strength. I need to be able to kill things as well as you."

"I thought Magical Girls were natural at that." Colt snorted.

"I need to start relying on alternatives other than magic."

"Hmph. I hate to trust Lime. The customer is always wrong. Unfortunately, the customer is also God. Alas."

He walked over to her, holding the steaming cup.

"Still, you need to understand something. You didn't come here to learn how to shoot a gun. If you're here for that, go to your back yard and plink away at a tree while you play weekend warrior. If you're here, you're going to follow every single thing I say. You're going to be here, all the way, and… well, for lack of a better word, I'm an asshole. You ready to lose something to get something?"

He offered the cup to her. She took it, managing to keep her face the same.

"I have to. That's all I need to tell you."

Homura drank the coffee black.

* * *

Jeremy Colt taught Homura Akemi a great deal many things about weapons, and their applications. She also learned quickly to resent the relish he had for testing the limits of her repairable body in live combat.

He never questioned why she wanted to learn to use small caliber fire arms, like the Beretta, when explosives were the easiest way to deal with Witches. If he did, he wasn't worth learning from.

In the city Colt lived in, it seemed to rain all the time. Because of that, Homura lost track of the time. Wake up. Learn to disassemble and reassemble Glock A, Taurus B, or Heckler and Koch C. Learn the colors of grenades, the application of Semtex. Travel to the 4th floor to shoot hanging pieces of meat. Travel to the 5th to be shot at. A monotony of rote training dictated by Colt, who glowered, sneered, grinned, taunted. He was a creature that survived off the resentment off others. Homura took it in stride, accepting him. If it were for any other purpose, she might have succumbed, but she knew why she was here, and nothing would take that away.

When they went Witch hunting, Homura always took the lead, Colt watching. He would lean back against the wall of the barriers, a multiple grenade launcher hanging by his hip, legs crossed, arms folded, as he watched her dance around monsters, appearing and reappearing here and there, crowning their heads with explosives.

But somehow, even with all her new toys, Homura felt uncertain. If bullets were all it took, then shouldn't she have done this sooner? But it wasn't about bullets. Colt saw that already. Homura felt like she couldn't put all her effort into it, even though she knew what was on the line.

But Colt differed on that. He had something that allowed him to walk suicidal into Labyrinths, one way trips for ordinary humans, and exit every time, covered in the blood of his enemies and sure of fat cash deposit in his bank. He had something he had not yet shared with her.

She asked one day… night. Something overcast with the rain. He was at the kitchenette, papers and photos scattered about, felt tip pens marking circles and lines on maps.

"Colt. What is it you're keeping from me? What can you do that I can't?"

He smirked as he realized she noticed. There was a bottle of gold whiskey he poured out into a shot glass. He downed one before pouring another.

"There is something I have that you don't. Or rather, I don't have something you do. I've taught you all the mechanical skills, but this one last thing is more about a state of mind. Luckily, I've just been handed the perfect job to illustrate the final hurdle you'd have to take. Consider it a final exam. And a final warning."

He held up the glass of whiskey to her, "If you follow me all the way, you definitely are going to lose something. You ready to grow up and be a big, bad girl?"

"I told you, I have nothing left to lose." Homura grabbed the glass so harshly, the amber liquid splashed and spilled over, and leaving it to stain her fingers as she hastily took the burning alcohol down her throat.

Colt gave an underpowered snort that sounded more like a indignant sniff.

It was still the early hundreds of Homura's career, back then. She didn't realize there was one more thing to rid herself of.

* * *

Despite dressing in a long black coat and hat like some out of fashion cowboy, Jeremy Colt was still a surprisingly pragmatic man. That's why he drove Homura to their destination in a serviceable BMW, rather than some Ducati Homura half imagined he'd be stupid enough to traipse about in.

They stopped in the industrial zone of the Colt's drowning city, in a corner out of the way. In front of them was a multi-floor industrial warehouse and office. Lights could be seen through smeared and tinted windows.

Colt and Homura stood in front of the open trunk of their car, pulling guns and grenades out. Homura had the convenience of making a great deal many disappear under her light clothing with conjuring tricks. Colt had to make due with a combat vest that carried all his spare ammunition.

It was an unusual amount of ammo. Homura knew it, Colt knew it. There was no point using bullets on Witches.

"Colt, what's in there?" Homura asked, trying to keep her voice cool while she racked back the H&K 416.

"A Cult. Probably, ten to twenty subjects inside, not including the Witch." Colt mentioned off hand, not even paying attention as he inserted a magazine into his UMP, while his oft seen M32 Grenade Launcher hung off his back.

"…What?"

"Witch worshippers, Homura. You know there's been a bunch of those popping up these days. Think the world deserves to go out like a light, so they cram themselves down the mouths of Familiars and hope they're doing their part. I get jobs like this every once in a while, trying to keep the world from going any more insane since that Witch popped up."

"You want me to kill humans." Homura whispered, teeth pressed together. Colt looked down at her, sneering.

"They're not human, Homura. They're a threat. They'll be shooting back at us, and they won't negotiate, but they'll beg plenty to live, just so they can sacrifice themselves to create new Witches. They don't even need a Witch's Kiss."

"This isn't right."

"Rightness or wrongness doesn't factor into this. It's just us and what we need to get done. If you can't follow me, Homura, then you don't have what it takes get your own shit done, whatever it is."

"It's not the same thing."

"When we enter the building, we're both going to be after exactly the same thing. It's up to you; whether you want to learn to have the spine to do what you need to do."

He checked his watch. "Five minutes to operation time. I'm going around back to cut the power. We're starting at the lobby and clearing each floor bottom to top on a room by room basis. You come if you want. I can kill 20 men and women and a Witch with or without your help."

He stalked off into the falling water, leaving Homura behind with the car, and the rifle in her hands. Her mouth was pushed into a grim line, all the distaste and distress sinking through her heart and into her guts.

This was disgusting. Homura drew lines on what to do and not do. Killing Witches was fine, but this… this Cult was just a cash assignment, ancillary and practically unrelated to her goals. What would killing humans prove to herself?

What did it prove to Colt? That he was better than humans? That he was worse than one? What would it prove to her, to not take the next step down from what she already was?

The lights went out in the building, and in the shadows, she could see a figure stalk, crouched, his gun raised and scanning. Rounding a corner, he disappeared into the depths of the warehouse garage.

Did it really matter if she was a part of it or not, this time? This was Colt. He was right. Whether they were human or not didn't matter anymore in his presence. It was just him and a pile of corpses.

"They were already dead" was some sort of excuse, good or bad. But now she was intrigued. What would happen inside, if her being there wouldn't matter?

She walked out of the rain, and joined him in the darkness.

* * *

They weren't human. They were a threat. They shot back, didn't negotiate, but begged plenty amidst the flares of gunfire and reports of thunder.

Homura didn't get the chance to see them confused. Colt had already started killing them with voiceless precision when she caught up, and all she saw were crazed men and women with their own guns rushing up to him, and to her, who had just arrived at Colt's back.

"The slanderer must die!"

"We will overcome persecution!"

"Kill that outsider fuck-"

The last one was a rather well built teenage boy, who fired his gun sideways, missed every time, and collapsed when Colt fired thrice into his chest and neck.

Apparently they didn't have much in the way of actual training. They fired wildly, nicking the walls and standing out in the open, while Homura watched Colt return fire, every few bullets knocking another man or woman down. They were all so nondescript.

No plan survives contact with the enemy. Colt had intended to herd them upstairs. All he got was them standing in place as he mowed them down one by one, until he ran out of people to try and herd.

Homura didn't even fire a single shot, while she watched him. By then end, the two of them approached the last unopened office, one behind the other.

"Yo! Any neo pagan in there needing an ass full of lead?" Colt shouted at the door.

Homura had to tackle him out of the way when the door spat out several bullets through the wood.

"Hey, Homura. Guess you tagged along and decided to be completely useless while I was doing all the fucking work." Colt snorted at the girl atop him.

"That was stupid of you."

"Yeah, well, it's the last guy; I can afford to play with my cheque."

When Colt kicked down the door, into the smallish room, they confronted a man in ratty priest's vestments, aiming his ornate engraved handgun that probably cost the entire cult all the money they had.

"Dirty heathen! How dare you violate the lair of our queen?" The "priest" snarled.

"Well, you know. Somebody wanted you dead enough to pay me."

Homura remained silent. Colt's smile was overtaking his face. He wasn't really listening to the priest. He was just playing with his cheque.

"How pathetic you are, mere mortal. How lost you are without the guidance of our queen! Consuming and hoarding food, drink, and wealth! Ignorant of the truth!"

"Look, just because you know a few letters out of their alphabet doesn't make you infinitely wiser than me…"

"You know nothing. The arrival of the great Witch upon our world is a sign of judgment! Mankind deserves destruction!"

"Shut up."

That wasn't said by Colt. Homura almost wished she let herself utter it, now that she found the priest's wild stare coming down on her.

"You think you know more than me, child? You weren't present before the coming of the Queen, who's lesser forms we must advance! She came in the darkness of humanity, chosen out of the masses to become a greater being!"

"Shut up…" The man's voice echoed in her ears, speaking all the stupidest interpretations, while she pressed down her teeth.

"I don't know what pathetic, hedonistic lifestyle you and your man here live, living in squalor, acting like this world isn't decaying for a reason. But I know! Our queen came to us, because she realized the futility of our existence! Thanks to her, I understand that our only purpose is to be given over in blessing to the Queen."

The priest remembered he had a gun, and oriented it on Homura. Colt was glad.

"A child as you are, if you raise arms against us, you understand nothing-"

Colt never knew how Homura did it. Where were the smoke and mirrors for her disappearing trick? Perhaps he'd never understand. But it was always shocking to see it up close.

There was a flash, and before he knew it, the priest was screaming, bleeding with his knees blown out, Homura snarling and tackling him to the ground, dressed in the garb of magic, and this happened before the rifle clattered to the ground.

Homura exploded with hatred and rage. She grabbed a man twice her size by the throat, and brought her fist into his face, again and again, between pauses are her hoarse growls.

"How dare you… how dare you… think of Madoka… like that…! How dare you… piece of shit… stupid fuck… you dare… undermine… her sacrifice… everything she did… for you humans…! Because of fucking… people like you… she became that… you fucking… fuck… fuck! She wanted to help… she wanted to help…! And I couldn't… every time…! Because of people like you…!"

The man screamed and flailed wildly, between shock and pain, while Homura screeched, pounding away, endlessly, a tether snapped.

Colt watched the whole thing, and groaned.

As happy as he was that he had a "breakthrough"… or at least a beneficial breakdown, Homura could potentially do this for hours. Homura might have not been doing it for money, but he certainly wasn't, and there was still a Witch somewhere up in the building.

He let his UMP hang loose on its sling, while reaching for his grenade launcher. He stalked out of the office, leaving Homura with her fists.

* * *

The Witch was actually absurdly pathetic. Just a 30 minute fight, most of which involved running out of ammunition and then having to ram the Witch's imaginary Schoolbus down its throat.

When he returned to the office, he only then just heard two final screams. One from Homura, and one from the target, before the sounds of a handgun firing repeatedly.

Colt finally entered the room, finding Homura panting wildly, pulling on the empty and engraved gun of the priest, slide locked back, and barrel smoking. Her knuckles where a mixture of purple and red. The priest's head was a pulpy mess.

Homura hiccupped.

Dropping the gun, she staggered over to the corner of the room, and started coughing and heaving, the sounds of her innards splashing onto the ground and between her feet.

Colt hummed to himself, thinking about what Homura said. Madoka. That Witch. The end of the world. Perhaps that was why she wanted this.

"Go ahead, Homura. Puke it all out. Puke out all those feelings you don't need. What you feel isn't guilt. You're just expelling stress. It's all downhill from here."

Homura kept it up until there were just weak dry heaves and a few sobs.

"Pick up your gun. You're not a teenage queen. You're an M14."

She gave a few unsteady steps as she walked over her kill and retrieved her H&K 416. He could hear her unsteady breaths. She smelled of her tears and her bile.

"Are you happy now?" She hoarsely muttered.

"Dunno. Are you? You needed to do this. You've done the worst possible thing yet. From here on, don't get held back by anything. You're here to save the world or some shit. If that's the objective, then everything in your way is an obstacle. Doesn't matter if they're human, or Witch, or whatever the fuck else. They either work for you or they don't."

"I'm not here to save the world. I'm here to save her."

"Huh. I suppose that'd make sense. Otherwise you'd just kill her back then, before she was a Witch."

She turned up to look at him, glaring. Colt shrugged.

"I think you understand what you need to give up, now. Let's go. This isn't actually a sanctioned operation, so law enforcement technically have the right to arrest us."

She took a few more breaths.

"…Alright."

"By the way, I'm going to really have to teach you how to double tap. You totally wasted all your shots back there."

She never picked up on it.

* * *

That was the first few hundred times. Eventually she got the practice down, and lost the rest of herself, after Colt helped her with the first of it.

At a certain thousandth, she decided to return, just to see if she could do it better. It was a whim, which she wasn't used to. She had learned to mechanize her schedule, until it was all solely dedicated to completing her objective.

She returned to the building on that night, in a time she never met Aloysius Lime, or Jeremy Colt. The cult was all there, in their obliviousness, and she descended upon them, quietly.

When she confronted the priest, the conversation was much shorter.

"I don't understand…!" He said, staring at her magic garbs.

"Understand that everything you believe in is wrong." She simply replied, before she shot him in the head, once, with her own Beretta M9. She flicked her hair out of her face, and didn't feel a thing, other than the comfort of the knowledge that she was right.

When she left, she was confronted with a man in a black coat, and black hat. He carried an M4A1, and he brought it to bear.

"What the fu-"

The world stopped for Homura, rain frozen in the air, and Colt staring at nothing in surprise. She walked past him, with no energy to smirk.

What an arrogant creature he was, living off the resentment of others.

"In another world, you might have made an excellent Magical Girl, Colt."

"Yes, and you an excellent assassin."

That got her eyes to widen, as she swirled around to meet an Englishman who ignored how time had been frozen. She trained her gun on him.

"You're not human, Aloysius Lime. What are you?" She coldly demanded.

"A Time Lord."

"…What?"

"Personal Joke."

Homura pulled back on the hammer of her gun, though it might have been an empty gesture.

Aloysius Lime stared back, "You certainly have been using Jeremy Colt's training well."

"I never met that man till now."

Lime paced to the side, respectful to not let Homura shoot him with any sudden movements.

"It would have been a believable lie, but I have excellent memory, no matter the fluctuation. After all, I am still the same man who introduced you to him, many variables ago."

"How can you remember?" Homura asked, without any of the surprise. She knew how to hide it.

"I keep notes."

That sure explained everything.

"If you're so powerful, why do you associate with this man? He's only human."

"The same reason I've approached and associated with you. Mortality does not equate humanity. All three of us, no matter our capacities, only look human. Do you agree?"

Homura aimed her gun at Lime for several more seconds, before slowly lowering it.

"What do you want from me?"

He gestured to the still rain.

"I am merely interested in you. I did cite personal amusement when we first met. You, of all people, after all, are the most likely one capable of making interesting alterations to this dreary, post apocalyptic time line. Your connection with Ms. Kaname, and so on."

"You believe I can do it?"

"I have a healthy bet on it. Please do not give up, and be wary of me and many others. The universe is a vast, eleven dimensional realm, after all, that loops backwards and forwards with every black hole, and there are many interested parties seeing what can or cannot happen, especially with the monumental importance Ms. Kaname finds herself playing."

Homura didn't know what to say.

"Perhaps it is time for you to return to that city now, Miss Homura Akemi. The earlier variables where you did not interact with Ms. Kaname at all were… boring."

"Hmph."

But she did take her cue to walk off and disappear.

"-ck?" Colt finished saying as the rain continued to fall. He blinked, and twisted his aim around several times, confused as to who disappeared, and who had appeared.

"Lime, what the fuck are you doing here?"

The Englishman removed his glasses to shake the excess drops off, "I wanted to check on an anomaly."

"Yeah, well, you're a little late, some prepubescent bitch just wiped out my target."

"Yes, her. Don't worry about it. I give her a generous amount of independence. Every once in a while, she falls into a whimsy like this."

"What, you know her? Another one of your special friends across the vast wide conspiracy?" Colt glowered.

"She is an associate, I suppose. She keeps track of a particular group of individuals for me. Perhaps it would be beneficial to let the two of you meet, some time."


End file.
